


Untitled Nap Fic

by toomuchplor



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: De-aging, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-11
Updated: 2006-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchplor/pseuds/toomuchplor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little nap fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Nap Fic

"I --" says Elizabeth, throwing her hands up in the air -- "I quit. I surrender, I submit, I am completely _completely_ caving on this one. Twenty years in the diplomatic service, but today's the first day I'm saying that I _give up_."

"What the hell do you expect _me_ to do?" squeaks Rodney, horrified. "I'm not -- this is not what I do, okay? If you check my personnel file, I think you'll find that my areas of expertise are actually wormhole physics and Ancient technology. I don't, in fact, specialize in doing the impossible, whatever you may have been led to believe by my past acts of genius."

Elizabeth wipes her hands on her pants as though to rid them of stickiness. "You know what?" she says, almost hysterically. "I don't even -- two hours. The Athosian elders said it would only last two more hours, but I just can't be the one to wait it out, Rodney, I _can't_ , I _can't_!"

Rodney blinks twice, rapidly, because he's never seen Elizabeth this close to the brink of a nervous breakdown, not even facing down encroaching hive ships and a self-destruct count-down. "I -- only two hours? You swear?"

"I swear," Elizabeth nods. She reaches out, squeezes Rodney's hand between her palms, and beats a quick retreat before Rodney can change his mind.

With a sigh of deepest regret, Rodney turns to face his new charge. "Oh my god, you're just terminally adorable," he says, depressed. "Did that grouchy old priest somehow _know_ that you were going to turn into Nermel the big-eyed kitten when he de-aged you?"

A very small John Sheppard, almost lost in the grey puddle of Elizabeth's smallest t-shirt, sniffles self-righteously and blinks his dark-fringed hazel eyes. "No," he says, and his small pointed chin tilts up slightly.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Rodney demands. "It was a rhetorical question, you tiny moron."

"No," says John again, and hitches up his sagging makeshift diaper.

"Oh, yes, this is just fantastic," says Rodney, and reaches out to try and tweak John's mop of baby-soft hair into respectability. John ducks, runs, and squeals, "No no no!" the whole way around the room.

Rodney watches John beat a path of hyperactive doom over furniture and dangerously close to Rodney's second favorite laptop. Dismally, Rodney presses his index finger into the gathering tension locus between his eyebrows. "Hey, guess what?" he tries brightly. "Uncle Rodney has a fun new game planned! It's called, 'drink this cup of iced tea laced with bourbon'."

"No!" says John, catapulting off Rodney's bed.

"Sorry, Colonel," says Rodney firmly as he dives and scoops the little boy around the middle. "Dr. Weir says that it's naptime for all tiny military commanders."

"Nap wif me?" lisps John, squirming around to throw his arms around Rodney's neck like a weird cologne-scented monkey.

Rodney's so flummoxed by the conspicuous absence of the word 'no' that he finds himself nodding and agreeing. As they bed down on Rodney's narrow cot, John's heavy warm body an unfamiliar weight across Rodney's stomach, all Rodney can think is that he's never again going to see Sheppard in the same light.


End file.
